


Tiny Tales

by AbigailHT



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: (the angst is mild and more prevalent in the start but then it turns into a fluff-fest), Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Relationship, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Love, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internalized Homophobia, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Out, Mild Sexual Content, Mild Smut, Past Character Death, Self-Hatred, Teasing, and I got many prompts, but I'm trying to fit the prompts together, so that they are telling a story and are related, this is a ficlet challenge I posted on tumblr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2018-10-31 16:40:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 13,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10903317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbigailHT/pseuds/AbigailHT
Summary: “I need a place to stay,” he said, almost in a whisper—heart racing, ready to be rejected.Jesus’s face softened into a mild smile when he stepped aside and signaled him to enter.





	1. #3 "You can't just sit there all day."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Anon for prompting me with this :3

 

„You can’t just sit there all day.“

He hadn’t heard him approach which wasn’t really surprising since he’d been deep in thought and the person standing in front of him, arms crossed and a sour look on his face, was known for his stealth skills. Daryl quickly looked down again, gaze locked on his fingers while he picked the dirt from under his nails. He didn’t intend to answer, didn’t even intend to acknowledge the presence of Paul Monroe, though the man was hardly the easiest target for him to ignore. 

Piercing blue eyes burned holes into his back whenever he walked past him, his skin felt as if it were electrically charged whenever he was near him, his stomach tensed in funny ways whenever he’d see a glimpse of his smile, his heart lost its rhythm whenever their eyes met. 

Daryl had been trying to bury these feelings under thick layers of disgust, memories of whippings and pain, and self-hatred that threatened to devour him whole. The slight tingling in his body and his heart picking up the pace told him that those attempts had been absolutely in vain. 

If it had been hard before, it was worse now. After everything that had happened, he was even less worthy of these feelings now. Thinking about what his actions, his stupidity, and impulsiveness had cost his family, had cost Maggie, he wasn’t even sure he deserved to feel anything other than pain at all. 

The irony of it all was that he had come back to Hilltop to be able to do something, anything, for Maggie—his family he had inflicted so much pain upon. And now he was sitting here, behind Jesus’s trailer, trying to dissipate into thin air whenever someone noticed his existence, trying his best to avoid his family, to avoid Maggie. 

„You can come inside, you know?“ Monroe said in a softer voice. „They’ve missed you; they’re worried sick about you. Plus it looks like rain and I don’t think sleeping outside will be the best thing to do today…“

Daryl’s throat clenched and it was suddenly hard to breathe. Imagining them being worried about him—fuck! He almost regretted coming back here, regretted even escaping the cell he was tortured in. That had been easy, the torture. Easier than having to face the consequences of his mistakes or looking his family in the eye and telling them he was sorry. He wasn’t sure he could do it, so he’d rather hide outside here, like the coward he was. 

His shoulders slumped forward and he closed his eyes in shame. He could hear and feel that Jesus was moving. A slight touch of a hand on his shoulder caused him to open his eyes again, meeting another pair of gentle and concerned ones. 

„No one expects anything of you, Daryl,“ Jesus said almost in a whisper. „If you must, if it helps you to deal with… what happened… Stay out here, I’ll try to find a tent or something for you in case it rains. But don’t forget that they’re your people, and they want you in there, with them. So, if you still decide to sneak in after everybody is asleep, there'll be some blankets and a cushion waiting for you beside the entrance, alright?“

Daryl didn’t answer; he tried to look away from those mesmerizing eyes, but failed completely. Paul didn’t press further, though; he smiled, patted his shoulder, and stood up again. When he left, Daryl rubbed his face and sighed heavily. 

Yes, the cell had been easier, indeed. 

 


	2. #2 "Hey, hey, calm down. They can't hurt you anymore."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks to the Anon on Tumblr for prompting me <3

Daryl jerked awake, heart racing, mind lost in confusion, eyes wide open with fear, chest trembling with choked breaths, clothes drenched in sweat. It was dark, and for a moment he felt completely disoriented, but when he realized that there was a shadow leaning over him and hands grabbing his shoulders, shaking him lightly, a sudden chill of terror overpowered him.

He fought against those arms, yanking them off him, trying to push the person away in a desperate attempt to defend himself.

He must have fallen asleep in spite of the never-ending tunes of Easy Street, and now they had come to shake him awake themselves, not allowing him one moment of rest, always making sure the suffering continued.

“Hey, hey, calm down,” a familiar voice whispered through huffed groans while he blocked Daryl’s frantic punches. His voice rang in Daryl’s ears, distracted him, and stopped him for a second. It didn’t make any sense. Why would he hear _his_ voice when he had expected Dwight’s instead?

A dark face formed in the shadow when Daryl had calmed enough to look at it. It was someone he knew, someone who shouldn’t be in his cell.

Then he realized that he wasn’t in his cell, he _couldn’t_ be.

He was covered by a warm blanket, his head rested comfortably in a cushion, and he was wearing his own clothes—well, at least the ones Paul had lent him after he had escaped the sanctuary.

He was in Paul’s trailer, lying in a corner, far away from the rest of his family that still seemed to be soundly asleep, and Paul, who still held on to him, had woken him.

“Hey, they can’t hurt you anymore,” he said softly, slightly caressing his arms in a comforting way that replaced the incoherent agony in his stomach with endless relief.

Daryl let out a few shaky breaths, trying to collect himself.

It had only been a nightmare.

As soon as his body became conscious of the situation, he tensed up again and cringed away from his touch. The other man backed away at once, mumbling a low ‘sorry’ in his direction. Daryl didn’t know how to act, what to say, and embarrassment crashed down on him with a sudden force.

He had snuck in after everybody had fallen asleep—just like Paul had suggested him to—and then he had almost woken everyone with his nightmares, if it hadn’t been for Paul.

“S’alright,” he murmured.

“Do you need anything?”

“Nah, just… some fresh air.”

A moment later, he was outside, the cool air of the night resetting his senses and clearing his head. It wasn’t the first time he had suffered nightmares; he remembered having them after his mother had died, when his father had vented his frustration out on him, when Merle had left him alone with him. Yet he was surprised that after all that had happened, in the horrifying world they now lived in, he’d feel like that vulnerable little kid again, having nightmares, feeling lost, and guilty.

When he had cooled off, his mind circled back to the trailer, to Paul. The way the man had caressed him in an effort to soothe his distress without even thinking twice about it.

Apart from the rare occasions of his family—mostly Carol and Rick—comforting him through physical contact, he wasn’t used to being touched like that. A tap on the shoulder, sure, but not gentle strokes that he would still be able to feel on his skin half an hour later.

A deep sigh escaped his mouth and he sat down by the walls, near the graves of his friends.

They couldn’t hurt him anymore, that was true.

It hadn’t been a nightmare about them hurting him, though.

It had been a nightmare about him hurting others.

Hurting his family.

Him swinging the wired bat and bringing it down on Glenn’s head.

Again and again until his vision was tinged red and his face was covered in sticky, warm blood.

Blood that he had spilled that night.

Blood that should have been his.

They couldn’t hurt him anymore.

But he wished they would.


	3. #33 "Are you sure that's the decision you want to make?" and #6 "I need a place to stay"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to 8-bitpig (#6) and zombiemommy22 (#33) for prompting me <3

Daryl knew that he wouldn’t be able to take his mind off the new occupant of Alexandria. Negan would stay there, locked up in the cell Morgan had built, be fed, and kept safe from people wanting to see him dead.

Daryl was one of those people. He could understand Rick’s decision, of course he could, but after all that had happened, he couldn’t bring himself to accept it the way he’d accepted all the other decisions he’d made.

He couldn’t pretend Negan wasn’t there, couldn’t pretend he could sleep well at night—his mind circling around that man in the stillness of the night. He couldn’t pretend he didn’t have nightmares when Michonne, Rick, or Carl ran into his room, expecting him to be wrestled down by enemies or bitten by walkers.

A month had passed, the nightmares had gotten worse, the flashbacks always hiding around the next corner, his appearance shabbier than ever, his hands shakier too. It was obvious that his family took notice of these details now that it wasn’t hard to overlook anymore.

Them worrying about him made it all a lot worse somehow.

It was Michonne suggesting him to get out of there for a while. Take a breather. But Daryl, not able to admit to someone else, and most importantly to himself, that he needed that, refused that thought at first.

“I’m fine,” he said and looked down to the crossbow he was polishing, a task purely meant to distract him.

“You’re not, and everybody knows that,” she said with a soft voice and sat down beside him. “We’re all worried, Daryl.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“We are, and you still go out there to hunt and on runs. We don’t think it’s safe for you to do that in this condition anymore. When was the last time you slept through a night? Really rested?”

“Had worse.”

“I’m sure of that, but we are not out there anymore, we are not wandering half-dead among those things. We are here. With people. We live. But you don’t seem to live anymore, Daryl.”

He didn’t respond.

“You could go visit Carol, I’m sure she’s missed you,” she said with a sad smile. “Or Maggie.”

The mention of the latter caused his heart to ache, no matter how much time passed, he didn’t think that feeling would ever go away completely—he didn’t want it to either.

“No.”

Michonne sighed and didn’t hide the frustration behind it. “Are you sure that’s the decision you want to make? Torment yourself forever for the things you think are your fault? You’re seeing this as punishment, aren’t you?”

Daryl stopped what he was doing and closed his eyes. He didn’t need to hear this—he was hearing this all day long already, little voices screaming at him inside his head, except with a different meaning to it.

_‘You deserve feeling like this.’_

And he knew he did.

The war was over, but he hadn’t been able to overcome these feelings and wished he never would.

“You need to talk to someone, Daryl,” Michonne said in a softer voice and put her hand on his, stopping it from its shaky movements. “You need to let us in, let us help you.”

When he didn’t respond, she took his hand firmer, pulled it to her lap and held it there. “If you don’t want to do it for you, do it for _us_. Rick, Tara, Aaron, _everyone_ is worried and sad to see you like this.”

She pulled him into a tight hug when he started to tremble, when tears burned in his eyes.

The next morning, he was on his bike, his little possessions in a backpack; people coming to see him off, kiss him goodbye and give him a firm hug.

Then he was out, driving down well known streets to the place he had known he would go to, without even the need to think about it.

He stood in front of his trailer a while later, knocking, and waiting.

When Jesus opened the door and an expression of surprise overpowered his usually calm countenance, he pulled down his backpack and let it fall to the ground in front of his feet.

“I need a place to stay,” he said, almost in a whisper—heart racing, ready to be rejected.

Jesus’s face softened into a mild smile when he stepped aside and signaled him to enter.


	4. #72 "Just smile, I really need to see you smile right now" and #65 "I don't want you to stop"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to zombiemommy22 (#65) and the Anon that prompted me these <3

The evening breeze felt fresh and soothing on his skin. The day had been too hot to be out there working, and yet that was what he and most of the other Hilltop residents had done all day. Hilltop was expanding, the walls were being extended, little cottages being built with the growing demand of more spaces to live in, because less people died and more babies were being born. The fruits of the cooperation of all the settlements, the perks of living in a time of peace.

It had been over a year now that Negan had been defeated. The man still was being kept alive in a cell in Alexandria, but no one seemed to bother anymore. And although Daryl had also made peace with the thought of him there, he still had stayed at Hilltop. No one had questioned it, no one had asked him to move back either—everyone saw that he felt comfortable and smiled again, something that had been rare to be seen on his face before, and that was enough for them to leave him be.

“Can’t you sleep?”

Daryl jumped at the sudden voice beside him and turned to see that Paul was there. Arms folded in front of his chest, walking towards him, and leaning against the trailer near to him.

“Did I wake you up?”

“Kind of, yeah,” he chuckled. “The hinges of your door really need to be oiled.”

“I’ll fix it in the morning.”

“And prevent these little meetings outside here in the future?” Paul asked with a smile.

The corner of Daryl’s lips twitched, but he pressed them together.

“Just smile, I really need to see you smile right now,” Paul said softly and tilted his head to look at him. “This whole week was a mess.”

Daryl looked down. Paul had been on a run for a week and just had returned this evening. He had found two new people hundreds of miles from here—which was a rare occasion on its own—but things had gone bad, and it had ended up in bloodshed. It hadn’t been only walkers that had killed them, though. Paul had needed to defend himself, and the others hadn’t survived. Daryl knew that it would be on his mind for a while.

He heard the man beside him move and come closer. The next moment, he was lifting his arm and pushing Daryl’s long bangs back, his eyes never leaving his face. Daryl looked up then, capturing his eyes with his. Suddenly, his knees felt wobbly, his stomach twitched in unpleasant ways and his chest tightened so much that he wasn’t able to breathe normally.

He hadn’t expected Paul’s face to be so close, yet there he was, only a few inches away, feeling his breath on his face with a tickle that ran down his spine.

“I really missed you,” Paul whispered and caused Daryl to nearly tuck tail and run, but he was fixed in his place, hypnotized by the moon shining in a soft glow on his face. “When I was out there, I actually thought I wouldn’t come back alive. And you know what I couldn’t stop thinking about?”

When Daryl didn’t answer, he continued, “You. And the missed chances none of us were brave enough to take the past few months.”

As in an attempt to provide his brain with oxygen again, Daryl let out the air that had accumulated in his lungs and took a deep breath. His mouth felt dry, he couldn’t respond, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t look away.

Paul closed his eyes and leaned forward, holding his neck with his hand, pressing his soft lips on Daryl’s for a moment before he pulled back a few inches again. Daryl felt like his heart had jumped out of his mouth, his lips were still electrified, and his stomach had a life of its own. Paul’s eyes stayed on Daryl’s lips, his fingers gently caressing the nape of his neck.

“Tell me to stop if you don’t want this,” he breathed on his lips and Daryl’s mind went blank.

“I don’t want you to stop,” he blurted out, unexpected to both of them.

Paul’s lips widened in a content smile before he closed the distance and their lips brushed against each other again. It was Daryl this time that leaned in, increasing the touch. Paul’s other hand took a hold of his shirt and he pulled him even closer, toying with his mouth, pressing their bodies together.

Daryl wouldn’t have expected this to happen. Not when they first met, not when the man had helped him out of the sanctuary, not when they had gotten closer to each other, appeasing each other’s wounds and sorrows, not when Daryl had moved into his trailer, and not now, when he had woken him in the middle of the night for the dozenth time because the door to his room creaked.

Daryl was sure that he hadn’t expected this to happen ever in his entire life. And yet he couldn’t remember feeling happier than he was feeling right now.


	5. #20. „I don’t want to hear your excuse. You can’t just give me wet-willies.” and #42. „Stop being so cute.“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Anon (#20; that's so gross, though, Anon xD!) and zombiemommy22 (#42) for these prompts :3

“I don’t want to hear your excuse,” he heard Enid yell through the open windows of the trailer, “you can’t just give me wet-willies!”

“It was just a joke!” Carl’s voice defended himself.

They didn’t hear the rest of the argument though, because they seemed to have walked away already.

“Has the group arrived?” Paul asked curiously, sprawled across the couch with a book on his chest.

It had been a lazy day. The weather had changed its mind every now and then, so they had decided to rest for the day and continue with the construction works tomorrow.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Daryl murmured, leaning against the sink.

He wasn’t sure why he had gone to the small kitchen area in the first place. Hearing Carl’s voice had thrown him off balance. The group from Alexandria was here. They had been expecting them of course, but he somehow had dreaded their arrival either way.

“Are you okay?” Paul asked cautiously and sat up on the couch when he realized that Daryl still was staring at the faucet.

“Yeah, yeah,” Daryl said quickly, pushed himself away from the sink, and turned around. He wasn’t able to meet his eyes though. “Uh, I’ll go check… that thing.”

Paul raised his eyebrows, but whatever he had on his mind, he decided to keep it to himself when he just answered, “Yeah, sure.”

Daryl headed for the door and just bailed. He knew that he was acting absolutely suspicious, but he hoped that Paul was discreet enough to just let it slide and not press on it further, like he always did when he sensed that something was making him feel utterly uncomfortable.

He wasn’t sure where he was headed; he just wanted to escape to someplace where he could be alone, preferably with no Alexandrians around. He walked around Barrington House and headed for the backside where trees and bushes were providing a little secluded area. Usually people didn’t hang around there much, apart from teenagers fooling around occasionally, but no one was around now. He sat down under a tree and leaned back on its trunk.

Daryl closed his eyes and tried to think about the situation he might find himself in later when he would have to face his family from Alexandria. He knew that it wouldn’t turn out so bad like his anxiety was trying to make him believe, but he still couldn’t stop himself from worrying too much about how they would think about him, or treat him, after they’d know about him—and Paul.

Whatever that was what they had.

Daryl wasn’t sure. After the first kiss two weeks ago, they had kissed a few times when it had felt right, but it never had lasted too long and never had ended in something else. They hadn’t put into words what they were to each other, but he knew that he was happy with the turn of events, with Paul getting closer to him now, their thighs touching when they sat together, Paul stroking his arm absentmindedly when they were talking, sometimes pecking his lips instead of saying goodbye before leaving Hilltop for a day, asking more personal questions to get to know him better, even though they had lived together as roommates for about a year now.

Maggie knew about it, in fact, she just had guessed right. She had said that the change in their behavior around each other had changed so much over night that she just had seen through it.

Would it be obvious to the others too? Would Carl notice? Would Michonne see it? Would Rick?

“Ah, you are hiding here, so I didn’t just see a ghost running out of Jesus’s trailer!”

Daryl jumped and looked to his left and his blood stopped pumping through his veins for a few seconds. Aaron was standing beside a tree with a bright grin on his face.

“You don’t seem happy to see me?” he asked disappointedly. “I guess one has to have long hair and a beard to get some love from you these days.”

Daryl looked down immediately, his heart beating hard against his chest, his cheeks burning up in flames.

“Ahh, I see, so the gossip Enid was sharing with everyone earlier wasn’t just bullshit,” Aaron chuckled and stepped closer. “You look so flustered that I wanna tease you more, but I somehow feel bad, so I’ll behave.”

He sat down beside Daryl with a heavy sigh and they were silent for a few minutes while Daryl panicked about what he had said, that Enid—the little fucker—had shared the news with everyone already.

“Hey, I’m sorry if I upset you. It’s alright, there’s nothing to feel so bad about,” Aaron said then with a soft voice. “You know you can talk to me, right? I mean… about anything…”

It shouldn’t be possible, but Daryl’s face still turned a deeper red than before, and he started to bite on his lower lip. When he dared to look up again, glancing through his bangs shyly, he saw the gentle smile on Aaron’s lips, somehow calming the nerves that were making him feel nauseous.

“My god, Daryl, stop being so cute,” Aaron laughed. “If Eric could see you now, he’d be so happy for you.”

Daryl couldn’t stop the churning feelings from turning his stomach upside down when he heard that name. Eric had fallen during the war, leaving a painful void back in Alexandria and on Aaron’s side. He was glad that Aaron could talk about him with a smile now, though, so returning that smile was the least he could do. Aaron’s face lit up even more and he patted Daryl’s knee affectionately.

“If you ever need anyone to talk to, when things feel like they’re too much, you know that you can always come talk to me. Instead of running away, I mean. Maybe it would help more, you know?”

Daryl thought about it for a while and then nodded, adding a low, “Thanks.”

“Alright, come on, let’s go, I heard there’s gonna be a barbecue for dinner today, and I’ve seen too many hungry teenagers lurking around to stuff their faces. If we’re too late for some chicken, it will haunt me for weeks.”


	6. “It’s late. Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the Anon on Tumblr for the prompt <3

He saw weird figures and shadows in the corners of the trailer in the darkness. He remembered watching the lights of cars passing by travel over the wall of his small room in the trashed trailer they’d lived in after their house had burned down to ashes. Soft lights sometimes growing bigger, sometimes lingering in a corner and disappearing, or getting brighter when the angle just hit his window right, illuminating his room and forming strange shadows at places he hadn’t expected them. Daryl hadn’t been afraid of the dark, although when he had seen shadows in the shape of a person, he had wondered if his daddy was there, hiding in the corner, waiting for him to make a mistake so he could lash out.

Now, there were no car lights to shine through the windows, nor were there sinister shadows making him feel anxious and preventing him from falling asleep.

But he still couldn’t sleep.

He didn’t even try. He was still on the couch of the trailer, because he hadn’t gone to bed in his room.

It was pretty late; the Alexandrians already had settled in for the night, they would stay for a hearty breakfast and then leave Hilltop again. Daryl didn’t know how to feel about that since he hadn’t been able to enjoy the evening with his friends and family at all.

People hadn’t been assholes to his surprise, not even one person had commented on him and Paul. He suspected that Aaron had something to do with it, buying him some time so he could adapt himself more to the thought of what might wait for him when people start to talk to him about it. He wished that day would never come.

The reason he hadn’t enjoyed himself was entirely different though.

Paul had ignored him the whole evening. He had sat down beside other people far away from where he was seated during the barbecue, and he hadn’t looked his way even once. Daryl hadn’t known how to react to that, so he hadn’t reacted at all. He had tried to ignore it, but he hadn’t managed to do so obviously.

Of course he knew that he’d have felt extremely self-conscious if, in front of the others, Paul had been the way he always was now since they had first kissed.

Closer, warmer, challenging.

It felt weird that he’d been disappointed, and it had felt even weirder to sort out his feelings when he’d seen him chat and drink beer together with his ex after dinner. They’d been still together, laughing and having a good time, when most of the others had went to sleep and also Daryl had decided to turn in for the night. But that had been hours ago and Paul still hadn’t returned.

A low click from the wall indicated that someone was opening the door. Daryl sat up quickly and shook his head a few times to keep his bangs out of his sight. Paul walked into the trailer and switched on a little light by the door. Then he startled when he saw Daryl sitting on the couch and watching him.

„Jeez, you scared me,“ he said, dragging the words. „It’s late. Shouldn’t you be asleep?“

„I uh—was reading,“ Daryl lied and randomly grabbed a book that was lying in the corner of the couch.

„Right, in the dark.“

Embarrassment washed over Daryl at once when he realized how this looked. He’d waited for Paul to return in the dark, like a worried mother that would wait for her child to return from a party. Daryl rubbed his chin, stood up, and started walking to his room without saying another word.

„Did you wait for me?“ Jesus asked.

Daryl couldn’t answer—all he could do was walk into his room and close the door. He stood there, wondering if it all had been just his imagination, if everything was over now, maybe it never started, and maybe he had seen more than there had been in the first place. Maybe it hadn’t meant anything. He didn’t know. They’d never talked about it.


	7. „I‘m too sober for this“, „You could have warned me“, „Trust me“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one got a little out of hand xD used 3 prompts this time :)  
> Thanks to tpayne-legendary (aka Whiteairwolf here) and the Anon of the last prompt-list (Chelsey I know it‘s you :P). tpayne-legendary explicitly asked for non-fluff xD not sure if this is what she had in mind :P  
> I hope you guys like it :)

„Are we seriously doing this right now?” Jesus’s voice demanded on the other side of the door, and when Daryl didn’t answer, he added, “I may be drunk, but I’m still too sober for this.”

He heard footsteps and then a door shutting with more force than necessarily.

The next morning, Daryl headed out into the woods after a mainly sleepless night while the whole community still was in their warm beds. It wasn’t something he’d never done before, going for a hunt with his brain feeling like it was being squeezed from each side, he’d had worse, but still, he wasn’t able to concentrate on the task at hand too much. Either that, or killing the walkers he’d had encountered had scared his game away. There had been more than usually which he honestly was glad for. It had helped to clear his head at least a little bit.

When he returned with only one rabbit he’d had found in his traps, Hilltop was already alive. At the gates, they told him that the group from Alexandria had already left; they’d asked for him, but no one had known where he’d been. This included Jesus, who was eyeing him suspiciously while talking to some of the construction worker, but Daryl ignored him.

He headed back to the trailer after cleaning the game and dropped it off in the kitchen unit. That was when Jesus came out of his room, fully in Kingdom gear, his hair up in a  topknot, and a backpack hanging from his shoulder. Jesus only paid attention to him for mere seconds while closing his door, and then he walked to exit and left without saying a word.

Daryl stood there, undecided; except for his hands and arms he’d washed up to clean the game he was still stained with walker blood and guts and sweat and had intended to go take a shower next. But seeing Jesus leave in full gear after talking to the construction workers, and that without acknowledging him for more than two seconds, had of course caught his interest. Without hesitating any longer, he grabbed his new crossbow and hurried outside just in time to see him walk through the gates. Jesus hadn’t taken any of the horses, so he would use a car, and Daryl began to walk fast to hurry after him. Just when he arrived at the parking cars outside, he saw one of the pick-up trucks start and drive down the steep path to the road.

He lifted his crossbow to signal him to stop and was surprised to see it actually happen a few seconds later. He walked down the path and got into the waiting car. A cautious look at Jesus told him that the other man apparently still wasn’t in the mood to acknowledge him, so he just turned his head away to look outside while the car started to drive again.

 

***

 

“We’re headed to Kingdom?” Daryl asked after what seemed to be hours of silence in the car.

“Was it hard?”

“What?”

“To find your speech?”

“What?”

Jesus sighed and shook his head, but didn’t answer.

“Why are you _this_ pissed?” Daryl snapped, because he should be the angry one, shouldn’t he?

“I don’t know, why are _you_?”

“Man, I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

The car came to an abrupt stop and nearly smashed him against the dashboard. The streets were clear, so Daryl looked at Jesus who turned around in his seat with furrowed brows and an angry look he hadn’t seen directed at him ever before. His eyes were as bright as ever, piercing into him and making him shift in his seat.

“You don’t know what I’m talking about, do you? Must be nice to play the dumb redneck whenever it’s easier to hide behind that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Daryl asked, feeling his blood starting to boil.

“Buckle the fuck up,” Jesus spat and started the car again.

Daryl ignored his order and looked outside again, he didn’t know how to control the emotions bubbling up inside him, anger mixed with disappointment and fear.

He didn’t know what had gone so wrong. Before the Alexandrians had come, everything had been alright, they hadn’t fought even once since they’d started whatever they  had been doing.

Of course they had fought a lot of times before, they’d been roommates for a long time now, and they’d been on countless runs together, there had been more than just one occasion they’d had the chance to argue. That was why he knew that Paul had to be really pissed if he didn’t even want to talk about it at the moment. But he seemed to have cooled down after a while when he told him where they were headed at last. Not the Kingdom, but a big hardware store in the outskirts of the city.

The construction workers had told him they were lacking a few things, tools that had broken and other supplies they ran out of. It had been scheduled for them to go out scavenging next week, but since that would mean for the construction works to be delayed, he’d had decided to do a quick run into the store they had secured a long time ago, which still had a lot of supplies in store they knew they could need.

As if their argument had been forgotten, they checked the area around the store together, making sure no ugly surprises would await them when they came back out from the store again, but they stood still at its entrance and shared a concerned look.

The doors weren’t closed.

“Which group was the last coming here?” Jesus asked in a low voice.

“Could also be the guys from Kingdom.”

“Why would they be stupid enough to leave the door open?”

Daryl didn’t have an answer to that and it didn’t matter right now. He raised his crossbow when Jesus opened the door more to slip in and he followed him. Sudden darkness engulfed them, their eyes needed a few seconds to adjust until they saw aisles and aisles of building supplies, waiting to be picked up by them. They didn’t hear anything, and also upon making noise, nothing disturbed the silence of the store. Jesus walked forward, telling him what they needed, so they could split up and gather the supplies quicker.

An hour later, the bed of the truck was filled and they were ready to go.

Just then, two walkers stumbled around the corner of the store, heading towards them slowly. Their snarls got angrier the closer they came, but Daryl just opened the door of the car and climbed in.

“Let’s go.”

Jesus ignored him and grabbed his knives, starting to walk. Daryl sighed and jumped out of the truck again, lifting his crossbow to aim at one of the walkers. He didn’t hesitate and shot, the arrow passing by Jesus’s head close enough to startle the scout.

“What the—”

Jesus turned around with an accusing look and shook his head before he stepped forward again to plunge his knife into the other walker’s head with a sickening crunching sound. When he returned to the car, he got in and stared at Daryl, who was already back in his seat, acting like nothing had happened.

“You could have warned me,” Jesus said, clearly waiting for an answer.

Daryl just shrugged. “Why? Ya doubting my aim?”

“There are a lot of things I’m doubting right now, trust me,” he answered and started the truck, ignoring him for the rest of the drive back to Hilltop.


	8. "You're bleeding all over my carpet", "That's starting to get annoying", "I've had enough", "You're always on my mind."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then, I suddenly used 4 prompts for one ficlet xD woops. 
> 
> Thanks to all the four Anons on tumblr for prompting me! (2 Anons from the old prompt list, and 2 from the new :) )
> 
> I hope you like it :)

While he was waiting in the hospital trailer to be looked at, Daryl stretched his legs, leaned back in the seat, and closed his eyes.

Gregory’s exasperated _‚You’re bleeding all over my carpet‘_ still rang in his ears when he’d gone to Barrington House to look for the doc who’d been looking after one of his patients there. It hadn’t been his choice to look for him, the guy he’d been working with on one of the new houses had threatened to go talk to Maggie if he didn’t listen. It wasn’t a bad injury, in a moment of carelessness he’d cut the fingertip of his left thumb off, along with a part of his nail. The only inconvenience of this had been the unstoppable bleeding, and that it would be hard to work now without being able to use his thumb the way he needed it.

His mind traveled back to this morning, being in that silent car with Jesus, being ignored like hell until they’d reached Hilltop, and even then, he hadn’t even looked his way before he’d headed off to wherever the fuck he was now.

So this was it, then. For the first time in his life, someone had actually tried to be _with_ him, and he’d fucked it up. The only thing he’d had known until now had been the drunk, meaningless times he’d had with Merle’s female ‘friends’ back when there had been nothing more for him to live for, except for fights, alcohol, and on part of his brother, drugs. Not that he hadn’t ever used substances, but it hadn’t gotten out of hand like with his brother. He couldn’t even remember the faces of the women anymore, all wasted, not really looking at _him_ when they did, not really wanting _him_ , not even acknowledging him anymore when they were sober again. The only thing he’d seen the next day in their eyes, had been disappointment and regret. Not even worth talking to anymore, until the next time they eased up with whatever substance they’d preferred.

Disappointment and regret.

Both things he was feeling at the moment, and he was sure that Jesus was feeling the same, although with a different meaning behind it. While Daryl was disappointed in how things had turned out, and regretted whatever he’d done to provoke that, Jesus probably was disappointed in _him_ and regretted ever trying to get near him.

That thought alone was enough to clench his chest so hard that he didn’t know if he could be able to breathe again. But of course he could. He’d always done. He’d survived worse.

Also worse injuries than this cut.

The cloth wrapped around his finger was drenched in blood now, and the throbbing pain started to intensify slowly, something he was glad for at the moment, calming the thoughts that were eating him up for a moment.

The door to the hospital trailer opened and Daryl nearly groaned loudly when he saw who had entered. Not the doc he was expecting, but his helping hand, the nurse Alex. Jesus’s ex. The last person he needed to see right now.

He considered for a moment to just walk out, pretend nothing had happened, but before he could do that, Alex gestured him to follow him, and he reluctantly obeyed.

When Alex looked at his cut thumb, he kept a straight face, not even blinking. They’d all seen worse during the war, survived worse.

After cleaning and dressing his thumb tightly to prevent more bleeding, Alex walked over to the sink to wash his hands.

“It’ll probably bleed through a little, but you can keep that dressing on for a few days, unless it gets all drenched, in that case, come back and I’ll see what I can do. It’ll hurt, but it’ll also heal fast, you’re lucky that the bone wasn’t injured. This way, your fingertip will just grow back, as if nothing ever happened.”

“Thanks.”

Daryl stared at the white dressing wrapped around his thumb and pressed on it a few times, ignoring the pain that caused. Alex turned around and looked at him for a moment; he seemed to be pondering something to say, and Daryl wasn’t so sure if he wanted to know what that was, so he jumped down from the stretcher.

“You shouldn’t use that thumb for a while, let it heal first,” Alex said.

Daryl nodded and headed to the exit, and Alex raised his voice again, “Say hi to Paul for me.”

His blood stopped pumping to his brain for a second, anger flaring up instead; he turned around to look at the nurse, trying to figure out how he had meant it. But a friendly smile was all he saw in his face.

“Ya can tell him yourself,” Daryl answered venomously.

Alex furrowed his eyebrows, his smile vanishing, and he looked confused. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Whatever, man,” Daryl said and left the trailer.

After his coworkers banished him from working for the day, he decided to just head back to his trailer and see what he could do there to pass the time, and to distract himself from the thoughts that kept creeping back into his mind.

He felt utter relief when he saw that Jesus wasn’t there, but that relief didn’t last long when he realized that there were sounds coming from the bathroom. Before he could make up his mind and flee again, the door opened and Jesus stepped out, rubbing at his wet hair with a towel, his sleeveless shirt still unbuttoned, wearing fresh cargo pants that were ripped at the knee areas, but still good enough to use. Daryl expected him to just turn around and go into his room, but he was wrong. Jesus stood there for a while, looking him up and down, his eyes lasting on his bandage for a few seconds before he looked back up again and moved his mouth to say something, but Daryl didn’t want to hear anything right now, so he was the one walking to his room and closing the door behind him.

Fuck, he was behaving worse than a fucking teenager right now. That thought somehow made him huff and laugh at his own stupidity. Was this some kind of teenage High School drama?

There was a timid knock on the door, and without thinking about it a second time, he reached for the doorknob, but it moved already. The door opened a few inches and Jesus said, “Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” Daryl said with a sigh and walked to his bed to drop himself on it.

Jesus entered his room gingerly and stopped there, “This is ridiculous.”

He didn’t say anything else, just waited, while buttoning his shirt up.

“If that’s all you wanted to say, you can fuck right back off,” Daryl said, annoyed.

“No, it’s not all,” Jesus said with a low chuckle. That sound somehow managed to ease the knot in Daryl’s chest a little and he looked up to him. He really seemed to be in a better mood. “This is starting to get annoying, man, and I don’t know if I’m the only one feeling like this, but I’ve had enough.”

“Not _me_ being pissed!”

“Oh, really? So who was that child hiding in his room, because of whatever reason?”

“And who was that grumpy teenager ignoring’ the shit out of me the whole time?”

Jesus thought about those words for a moment, and then sighed, “Alright, yeah, I was pissed, but so were you. I just don’t understand why the fuck _you’d_ be mad at _me_?”

“You don’t know, do you?”

“And I won’t ever if you don’t fucking talk to me, Daryl. How do you think this,” he said while gesturing between them, “is supposed to work if you don’t talk to me?”

“I could say the same thing.”

“Me ignoring you for a damn day because I was angry at you isn’t the same as you not talking to me for weeks about what’s going on in your head. And to hear that from other people behind my fucking back is sure not helping this situation.”

Paul breathed heavily after spitting all that out and looked at him, crossing his arms in front of his chest, and waiting for a response. But Daryl was so confused at his words that he didn’t know what to say.

“What?” Was the only thing his brain managed to formulate.

“If this, us, is not what you want, if you… If we should go back to being friends again, if that is what you want, we can. Daryl it’s not like I’m… forcing you to this, I thought you wanted it too.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you not wanting to be seen with me in front of your family. I mean, if that’s what you want, I can understand, but I’m not sure if I can live with that. I tried to give you what you wanted and it was fucking frustrating. I’d rather we end this, whatever it is, and go back to being friends if otherwise it would mean to hide from everyone. We’ve been through so much shit, Daryl; I just want to live my life in peace—without hiding.”

Daryl’s puzzled expression and his inability to speak were the only things that followed that speech. Paul sighed an turned to the door, but he changed his mind then, and walked towards the bed, sitting down beside Daryl. He then lied back and stared at the ceiling of the room, waiting for Daryl to answer.

“When did I say that?” Daryl asked after a few minutes.

“You didn’t, not to me, at least. But apparently to Aaron,” Paul answered with a low voice. Daryl couldn’t ignore the sadness that swung with his words.

“I didn’t.”

Daryl tried hard to remember what they had talked about before the barbecue, and he really couldn’t remember anything of that sort being said between him and Aaron. Aaron only had offered to talk to him about his feelings, that had been all.

Paul turned his head and glanced up at him, an incredulous look on his face. “You didn’t tell Aaron that you didn’t want to be seen with me? And that if that happened, you wished your family wouldn’t acknowledge it?”

“What? Where did that come from?” Daryl asked, trying to remember harder what he’d talked with Aaron, but that really hadn’t been a part of their conversation.

Paul sat back up and turned with his whole body towards Daryl, his knee bumping into his thigh slightly.

“I overheard Aaron telling the others that you’re feeling… some sort of shame or embarrassment to be seen with me and people talking about us. That it’s still too new for you and maybe it would be better to not say a word about it to you. He asked everyone to forget what Enid had told them and act as if nothing had ever happened, so you… so they wouldn’t upset you, or scare you away, something along those lines, don’t quite remember the exact words. I was too pissed, and drinking as much as I did the rest of the night also doesn’t help with me remembering his wording that well.”

“That’s why you ignored me the whole evening?”

“I didn’t _ignore_ you, I tried to give you space, I… didn’t want to upset you, and if that’s what you wanted, I thought I could do it. And then I return back home and you’re not even speaking to me. I thought, if you wanted to end this, then why the fuck didn’t you?”

“I don’t,” Daryl blurted out. “And I didn’t tell Aaron any of those things, man, I don’t know.”

“But you talked to him.”

“Yeah, I mean, he talked more than me.”

“I’m shocked,” Paul said with a little smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Fuck you, man,” Daryl said and looked back down on his hands, trying to hide the smile that was about to form on his lips. “I never said anything like that, guess he was just concerned about me and asked the others to leave me the fuck alone or somethin’.”

“Well, the way you behaved, like a scared little child, must’ve made him think that’s maybe for the best for you, to not shock the redneck out of you, being seen with a handsome man.”

“Shut up, done talking to you, asshole,” Daryl answered, smirking, no longer able to hide the relief that overwhelmed him.

“So, if not being seen with me or being together with me was the problem, why did _you_ ignore me?” Paul asked, his voice serious again.

Actually, Aaron hadn’t been that wrong, it had been eating him up, imagining his family reacting to them being together, but it had only been negative thoughts that he knew would never become true that had been making him panic that day. Deep down, he knew that his family wouldn’t react in a bad way, if anything, they’d be all happy for him. And he also knew that some of them wouldn’t even be surprised, Michonne hadn’t stopped making hints and implying things the past few _months_. Of course he wasn’t too happy about the prospect of them teasing him, but he’d just had to survive maybe a few days of it until it got boring and they left him alone again. And however he thought Rick, his brother, would react that day, he knew now that it just had been anxiety, the remains of his instincts telling him that he’d be rejected, and considering who his family had been before all of this, it wasn’t hard to imagine why he had felt like this.  

“Daryl…”

“I didn’t ignore you…”

“You could have come over to me during the barbecue, you didn’t. I thought it was what you wanted. And then you didn’t talk to me…”

“I…”

Daryl couldn’t find the words. And how could he? Admitting that he’d been _jealous_? The mere thought of it made his blood rise to his face in shame. Paul was persistent in waiting for an answer though, so Daryl just breathed in, and said, “Thought you’re havin’ a good time… Didn’t want to bother you. And after… I felt weird I guess.”

Paul moved, placed his hand on his cheek and turned his face toward him, forcing him to look at him.

“I annoyed the shit out of Alex that night with my drunken ass and the bitter comments I spat. Couldn’t stop talking about you, and he threatened to strangle me if I didn’t walk over to fucking talk to you, no matter whatever I heard people say. Don’t know if that qualifies as _havin’ a good time_ , but I guess the drinking game we started was fun, whenever Dixon glances at me, bottoms up.”

Daryl closed his eyes and couldn’t stop himself from chuckling. He’d been a fucking idiot, hadn’t he?

Fucking soap opera right there.

When he opened his eyes again, Paul’s blue eyes were wandering over his face, stopping shortly at his lips, and then heading up again to look him in the eyes, a soft smile placed on his own lips. The warmth that spread in his chest, chasing away any insecurity or negative thought that had resided there, reached his stomach and did funny things to it. Paul caressed his cheek with his thumb in a tender gesture, not moving an inch other than that, leaving burning traces on Daryl’s skin.

Daryl lifted his hand to put it on Paul’s cheek, too. He couldn’t express all the things he felt at this exact moment with words, so he decided to show him instead. He leaned in, placed a shy kiss on the other man’s lips and pulled back a little, their noses touching, feeling each other’s hot breaths.

“This isn’t bothering me, at all,” Paul whispered on his lips. “Don’t ever think you’re bothering me, Daryl. I want this, and I only want to know if you want it too.”

Daryl managed to nod a little, but that wasn’t enough, because Paul demanded, “ _Talk_ to me.”

“Want this, too...” And in a moment of bravery, he wasn’t even sure himself where that had come from, he added, “You’re always on my mind.”

As if there wasn’t anything he needed to hear anymore, Paul breathed with sudden excitement and captured his lips. The times they’d kissed before had been sweet, slow, patient—not this time. There was urgency in his kiss, demanding much more than just to talk, asking to share more than just brushing lips, and when Daryl opened his mouth and was met with Paul’s tongue, the heat rising up inside him was different than before. Sharing hot breaths, tasting each other, gripping and pulling, and he didn’t know who had initiated it, but they were lying on the bed now, Paul moving over him, placing himself on his chest, only leaving his mouth to plant a trail of kisses on his jaw. His wet hair brushed Daryl’s face when he reached behind his ear, pushing his lips on sensitive skin, causing a low moan to escape from Daryl’s lips, and changing the direction of his blood flow towards his groin.

Who’d have thought that a misunderstanding would lead into this? Overwhelmed by all of these feelings, all he could do was to put his arms around Paul and press him closer. The pain of his thumb long forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued... :D


	9. “Well, that’s tragic”, “Did you just hiss at me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to zombiemommy22 over at tumblr for these prompts ^^ (I believe I already did a few of your prompts :D now the next 2 :))

Thinking was almost impossible. Feeling his soft lips against his, his warm body on top of him, his hands traveling down, his pants tightening—it was too much to take in all at once. When he broke away from the kiss, Paul only moved a little to gain access to his neck, burning him up with his mouth, the overwhelming sensation clouding his mind.

He wanted to let go, wanted to let this happen, but the never ending insecurity in his guts didn’t stop crawling back up and clawing at his attention.

They both wanted this, that much was clear now, but he couldn’t stop remembering what he’d said earlier this day. That he wasn’t so sure about Daryl anymore, and that there were a lot of things he doubted.

Was it that wise to just forget what had happened and move on like this? Forget their differences and suffocate them with kisses? Wouldn’t they come back to haunt them later? Later, when they couldn’t turn back time and undo things that had happened anymore. Maybe even regretting with a sour aftertaste, and the thought alone hurt him more than he was comfortable with.

When he noticed Paul staring at him the next moment, he realized he’d pushed him away unconsciously. An awkward silence stretched between them, heating up his cheeks with embarrassment while the other man searched his face for a reason why their kissing had stopped abruptly like this.

“What’s wrong?” he asked finally, pulling those expressive eyebrows of his together in confusion.

Daryl wasn’t able to speak for a few seconds, and then he sat up and rubbed his face. Paul said he should talk to him, right? But he wasn’t quite sure how to put into words what he was feeling right now.

Suddenly, loud screams and muffled moans were heard through the thin walls of the trailer. Jesus shot up immediately and rushed to the window to look outside.

“Shit!” he cursed and ran outside, Daryl following him quickly, as soon as he’d been able to process what was happening.

It wasn’t walkers, it sounded like a fight.

When they reached the crowd that had gathered around the fighting men, they squeezed their way through and saw Cameron, a bulky man in his forties who was one of the construction workers, saddle another guy and punch him repeatedly. Daryl couldn’t even recognize who the other man was because his face was all fucked up already, blood staining his whole skin and also Cameron’s fists. Jesus was in front of him and reacted quicker, using the small room he had to sprint and tackle the big guy down. Daryl pushed a few bystanders aside to reach the front and the two men who were wrestling on the ground for dominance now. He knew better than to intervene and chose to look after the guy who didn’t move anymore. A few shocked sobs were heard from the people watching and he looked up.

“Move your damn ass and call the doc!” he yelled at the first person in his sight, and added, “Fuckin’ assholes.”

Then he turned his head back to the fighting men and saw that Jesus had the other guy in a choke hold already.

“Calm down Cameron,” Jesus said, sounding astonishingly calm himself, considering the situation they were in.

The man just spat gurgling sounds out, not intending to do as he was asked, still fighting to get out of the hold.

“Did you just hiss at me?” Jesus asked, sarcasm dripping from his words. “Alright then.”

He tightened his grip, and seconds later, Cameron’s limbs fell to his sides and he stopped moving. When people cried out in panic, he just added, “He needed a time-out. I’m sure the sleep will do him some good.”

Daryl wanted to say something, but he decided to check the injured guy’s pulse instead. If he was breathing, he was doing it so low that he couldn’t really tell. But there it was, a weak pulse, he wasn’t dead.

Just then, Alex and Harlan arrived at the site and took over, not that he’d done anything himself until that point. So he walked over to the unconscious man and looked back up at Jesus.

“What should we do with him?”

Jesus looked around, everyone staring with wide and scared eyes, waiting breathless for his answer.

“We’ll lock him up for now and let Maggie have a word with him later.”

“Nah, can’t leave that bulldog alone with her.”

“We won’t, now help me get him up, he weighs a ton.”

They used a vacant trailer to tie Cameron up and lock him in. It didn’t last long until he regained consciousness, though he seemed less aggressive after waking up. He even cried in despair, contrasting his behavior he’d displayed ten minutes earlier.

He talked even before Maggie joined them, telling them why he’d attacked the other guy. Apparently he was a former savior.

After the war had ended, people also had moved around. Feeling free to resettle in a different community, or moving in with people they’d come to befriend or fall in love with during the war, when they’d fought together against the saviors. Just like Daryl had done. And he hadn’t been the only one. Some of the former residents of the saviors had resettled too, lived in The Kingdom now, in Alexandria, the Oceanside, here. They hadn’t been as welcome as others, but people had learned to live with them and include them into the communities. Daryl didn’t know this guy though, he’d just moved to the Hilltop to help working on their fields, but Cameron seemed sure that he’d seen him during the war. Seen him kill his daughter.

Jesus and Daryl exchanged looks, they both didn’t know if that was what really happened, or if Cameron had mistaken him for whoever had done that to his girl. Both scenarios were possible, but they also knew that now, in a time of peace, it couldn’t be allowed to attack each other like this.

There had been hearings, they even had locked more up than just Negan, those who had refused to obey or show remorse. They couldn’t let them free, but Rick also hadn’t wanted to sentence them to death. There had been many discussions and also fights about this topic, but overall, there hadn’t been any difficulties or incidents so far. It had all gone well; until now, everyone had welcomed the peace after the bloodshed.

When Maggie joined them later, it was decided that they would hear what the former savior had to say as soon as he woke up, and after Cameron promised to keep his distance from the hospital trailer, they let him go home when it turned dark.

Silence was what welcomed Paul and Daryl when they headed back to their trailer afterwards. Both of them just settled down on the couch and sighed. Paul scooted closer to him and laid his hand on Daryl’s thigh, leaning his head back, but never letting his gaze sway from Daryl.

“So,” he said, and waited.

“Yeah?” Daryl answered and tried to ignore the nervousness that was battling inside his stomach.

“Where were we?”

Daryl considered if talking now would be a good option, but he still didn’t know how. So he just leaned in and kissed Paul’s lips slowly.

“Didn’t mean _this,_ but I won’t complain,” Paul whispered against his lips, pulling him closer.

Daryl pulled back and planted a kiss on his cheek before he said, “I’m hungry.”

“Me too,” Paul said, cupped his face, and pressed their lips together again.

Daryl took his head into his hands too now, and pulled them apart.

“Different kind of hungry,” he said in a low voice, looking him in the eyes.

“Well, that’s tragic,” Paul answered with a sigh, eyes wrinkling with the smile that was softening his face. “Let’s grab something to eat, then.”


	10. "That's in the past"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to kennichka on tumblr for this prompt <3

The former savior died that night. His name had been Landon, he didn’t have a family, but another guy who’d been living in the sanctuary before said that he’d been a worker and hadn’t been out fighting during the war. This news spread among the people in Hilltop and managed to cause frustration and nervousness in those who’d resettled here, some even considering leaving the colony because they didn’t know if they were safe anymore. But the person who was most shook by this was of course Cameron.

Daryl was listening to Paul narrating what had happened that day while he was cleaning his crossbow and arrows after being outside for a hunt all day. He had come home without any game this time, but had encountered a few walkers and so it still had served him to keep his mind busy and save him from a day of hearings and talking to eye witnesses, something Paul was eager to fill him up with now.

“So he’s gonna be sent away? Just like that?” he asked a few minutes later, after Paul had finished talking and sat down beside him outside of their trailer, merely watching people passing by now.

He didn’t face Daryl when he answered, “Just temporarily, it’s not safe for him to stay here right now, and we don’t want more incidents. And also, he just snapped there, Daryl, some people demand him to be exiled because they don’t feel safe around him anymore.”

“And what do _you_ think?”

“I’m not worried about my safety,” Paul said with a snort.

“You know exactly what I meant.”

Paul sighed, “Honestly, I don’t know. Sending him to another settlement for now seems like a good solution at the moment. At least until things calm down.”

“Seen worse things than that, done worse,” Daryl said in a low voice, looking down on his crossbow and trying to stop the images flashing through his head, images of war and bloodshed.

Now Paul faced him, looked at him without saying anything for a while, then he put his hand on his forearm and the warmth seemed to spread through his body immediately.

“That’s different.”

“How? You saw what I did.”

“You were in a bad place…”

“Maybe he was too.”

“They tortured you, Daryl.”

“His daughter was killed right before his eyes, can do things to you too.”

“He snapped and attacked an innocent person, we don’t know if that might happen again.”

“Yeah, well, not gonna pretend I ain’t ever been there.”

When Paul didn’t know what to say to that, Daryl added, “The reason I came here.”

“You came to escape the nightmares, Daryl, you were merely a shadow of yourself, you weren’t a danger to anyone.”

“I’d have killed him otherwise. That’s why I came.”

“Negan isn’t innocent, though, your anger was justified and also directed at the right person.”

“Can’t say I wouldn’t have snapped like him either if I hadn’t left Alexandria, maybe would’ve been a danger to innocent people too.”

“Daryl, you left, and you didn’t snap. That’s in the past.”

No, he didn’t. Because of him. Because he’d helped him overcome those nightmares even though he hadn’t needed to do much more than just be there, spend time with him, talk, smile. That was why he’d come here. And why he felt like Cameron deserved a second chance.

They fell silent for a few minutes, Paul’s hand sliding down his arm and taking his hand into his, playing with his fingers for a while before he spoke again.

“So, do you think you’ll be able to accompany him with me to Alexandria?”

Daryl looked up with surprise written on his face.

“I mean, I can do it alone, you don’t have to,” Paul added with a shrug. “Just thought it would be nice is all.”

“You’ll go alone with him?”

“Why? You worried?” Paul asked with an amused smirk.

“Didn’t you wanna go on that run tomorrow? The one you were planning?”

“Yeah, I will, after delivering him there.”

Jesus, always volunteering for everything he could. Taking over jobs the others didn’t want to do, and not even complaining once about it all. It seemed unfair to him how he’d let himself be taken for granted like this. And he hated the thought of having him gone for a week now. And he hated thinking that too, being weak like this, because he’d managed to block those thoughts until now.  

Daryl grunted and put his crossbow aside.

“Okay, when do you wanna go?”

Paul smiled and squeezed his hand. ”Will just pack some things and we’ll be good to go.”

“ _Now_?” Daryl exclaimed.

“Yup,” he answered and stood up.

“When exactly were you gonna tell me?!”

“I think I just did,” he said and patted him on the shoulder.


	11. "I swear, I'm not crazy!", "Shouldn't you be with him?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the prompts on tumblr: #15 @iamnelvenqueen (I will write the other prompt in another chapter, it felt too soon for that :3) and #25 of the older prompt list @zombiemommy22 <3

“I’m not, no, I’m not crazy. I swear, I’m not crazy! He was there, he had to be there… I’m not…”

The drive to Alexandria hadn’t ever felt this long. Cameron’s repeated pleas and assurances didn’t stop until they reached the gates of the other community.

It was dark already, but they were still welcomed warmly with a late meal of leftovers after they had accompanied Cameron to one of their vacant houses where he’d be guarded for the time being.

Michonne had asked the questions, Rick and the rest just had listened, and after Paul had filled them in and thanked them for agreeing to take Cameron in for now, she asked them if they’d stay the night.

“Yes, we’ll head out early in the morning, though,” Paul answered.

“Alright, your room in the attic is untouched, Daryl,” Rick said when the other Alexandrians had heard enough and already were leaving his house, then he turned to Paul and added, “Maybe you can stay with Aaron.”

Paul raised his eyebrows, as did Aaron who’d stopped walking suddenly, both of them exchanging surprised looks.

Daryl’s cheeks heated up against his will and he had to look down at his feet when he saw Michonne staring at him. He didn’t know what to say, or even if he should say anything at all, but he could see Paul shift beside him, turning his body a bit towards him before saying, “Ok.”

It was Daryl’s turn to be surprised now, he looked up at Paul with furrowed brows, but the other man was avoiding his glance, and then he walked towards the door, passing a stupefied Aaron who was looking at Daryl now too. But Daryl didn’t know what to do, so he just headed for the stairs after he’d watched Paul leave the house without turning back to look at him once.

What the fuck was even going on? He didn’t know, he also didn’t know why he nearly died inside when he heard Michonne shouting his name and heard her footsteps behind him.

He turned around, one hand gripping the railing of the stairs.

“What?” he asked, his tone sounding more annoyed than he’d intended.

“You’re just gonna let him go like this?” she asked incredulously. “Shouldn’t you be with him?”

Daryl looked down at his hands, knuckles turning white, his brain unable to come up with an answer.

“I thought…” she said slowly, but didn’t finish the sentence before Rick joined them.

“Is there a problem?” he asked, cocking his head.

When Daryl settled his eyes on him, he couldn’t stop the anger from welling up inside him when he saw the smugness written all over his face. He was _amused_.

_He was fucking with him._

Daryl snorted and shook his head, but he still didn’t know what to say, he wanted to tell them to fuck off, but he also wished he could talk to them instead. Tell them.

He knew that they already knew. They knew that he knew too, that’s why Rick was playing with him, scrutinizing his reaction without being able to hide the annoying smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Of course they knew, but he still felt like he had to tell them. Address the elephant in the room, get it off of his chest, relieve himself by doing so.

Yet he was unable to do it. And so fucking annoyed about Rick’s smile spreading unashamedly over his lips, annoyed about him looking at Michonne, annoyed about her glaring back at him, annoyed about him shrugging, annoyed about every fucking thing.

_Fuck everything._

He ducked his head, took a deep breath, and started walking. Not up the stairs—towards them. He pushed himself between them, his left shoulder knocking into Rick’s softly, ignoring his low chuckle, walking to the door.

When he left the house, he felt lightheaded suddenly. He hadn’t said a word, but his actions had been loud enough. They knew, and he’d admitted it, and he was fucking glad he had when he entered Aaron’s house, walked by him without acknowledging him, went upstairs and knocked on the door of the guest room, and was met with Paul’s astonished expression as soon as he opened the door and saw him.

“Can I stay here?” he asked, voice cracking with roughness.

“Took you long enough,” was Paul’s answer before he stepped aside.

But he wasn’t annoyed, he seemed like he’d expected him, and Daryl was so glad about that. So glad that he stepped forward and kissed Paul's lips, his heart nearly thrusting through his ribs violently. So glad when he felt Paul’s arms closing around him. So glad that they could be together, and fuck everything else.


	12. How drunk was I? — You're the only one I wanna wake up next to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the 2 lovely anons prompting these on tumblr ::)

Hands all over his body, soft lips on his mouth, on his neck, on his chest.

Paul stopped kissing him and pulled back a little, moving the cover of the bed along with him, to look at his face when his hands wandered down and down his chest and stomach and reached the buckle of his belt. Daryl’s heartbeat picked up considerably, and who could blame him.

Well, some people would probably think it’s weird that they’d been together for this long and hadn’t reached this step in their relationship yet—that’s for sure. But this was none of their business, and Daryl knew that he’d only need to say No and it would stop right there, which is, in a way, relieving and making him feel safe with Paul.

Was he sure he wanted it to stop right there, though? He honest to God didn’t know the answer to that, and it managed to freak him out a little, because that was something new, something unknown, foreign territory.

Until now, he hadn’t felt comfortable going further, but that wasn’t his truth anymore, something must have changed, and he knew it must be pathetic to be scared of your own feelings, but when things change and you don’t know how to feel about it, when the person you thought you were suddenly reflects a different image in the mirror, that can be scary, right?

It wasn’t the first time, though. Before they’d been interrupted by the fight outside in Hilltop, when they’d been kissing in his room, it had been there already.

Letting himself go and following his instincts and feelings sounded like an easy concept, but it wasn’t that easy, not when there was so much insecurity and fear and negative past experiences attached to those feelings.

Especially for Daryl, when he’d never expected to be somewhere with someone feeling things he’d never felt before, and trying to ignore the demons—in form of his dead father and brother in his head—accusing him of being a disgusting piece of shit for feeling what he feels, and slowly deciding to give in, but never without guilt.

Would be too easy otherwise, wouldn’t it? And when had Daryl ever had it _easy_?

But he wasn’t alone right now to be able to freak out in peace, and his hesitation didn’t go unnoticed.

“Should we stop?” Paul asked and let go of his belt.

Daryl couldn’t find the words to answer, because he didn’t know _what_ to answer. He knew he wanted it, that was clear now, but he also knew that those never-ending and mind-eating train of thoughts would be hard to shake off. And there was also embarrassment involved, making it all harder than it already was. It was ridiculous, wasn’t it? To be embarrassed to show your feelings and admit that you want something, as if you’re scared of being judged by someone who cares about you—not to mention also wants the same things, obviously.

Paul would never judge him, never had done it, never would do it. Paul, in fact, had been the first person to make him feel as comfortable with himself as he did right now. The first to be allowed to be this close to Daryl, causing him to open up as he’d never done to anyone else before.

“You’re not sure,” Paul said and settled back into the cushion, leaving space between them.

Daryl closed his eyes with a sigh. He hated disappointing Paul like this, of course he would be nice and gentle about it, but he still hated leading him on and then letting him fall abruptly, he hated—

“Hey,” Paul whispered and slid closer to him again, putting his arm around Daryl and placing a kiss on his cheek. “Stop worrying. It’s fine.”

There was a moment of silence. He didn’t know what to say, he wanted to reassure Paul without saying something stupid, he wanted to tell him how much he’d want to, but that there were a ton of insecurities holding him back, he wanted to tell him that it wasn’t  _his_ fault, wanted to say so much, but he was overwhelmed with the task of finding the right words—as always.

He remembered Paul asking him to communicate with him more. _How is this going to work if you don’t talk to me_ , he’d said, and had been completely right of course. Daryl wanted to, but he didn’t know how, so he just decided to roll with that.

“Dunno what to say,” Daryl answered honestly.

“Well, just let me know what you want or don’t want, or show me, if it’s too hard to form into words,” Paul said with a smile. „I don’t want this to be anything you’re not comfortable with.”

He didn’t sound mad, and that relieved Daryl.

“Uhm… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, man, what for?”

“For this,” Daryl said and gestured between them. “I mean… if…”

There was a pause. A long pause. Actually Daryl was too embarrassed to finish that sentence now, so he tried to act as if he hadn’t said anything in the first place.

“If?” Paul urged when he felt like there wasn’t anything else coming from the other man anymore.

“If you were with someone else…”

Paul scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Dixon, sometimes I’d love to just kick your ass out the window. Wait, whom am I kidding? I’d love to do that every damn day.”

“Ain’t it true though?” Daryl whispered and looked down, avoiding Paul’s gaze.

“Alright, two can play this game,” Paul said with an exasperated sigh and put his arms around Daryl’s waist. “Maybe if I were someone else, you wouldn’t be this insecure. Must be that I’m doing something wrong.”

Daryl frowned. “Shuddup.”

“Yeah, same to you, _idiot_.”

Daryl couldn’t help with the smile that creeped over his lips now, because even though it was kind of an uncomfortable situation, Paul was teasing, he wasn’t mad, he was smiling now too, and his hand on his waist was making tiny stroking movements—you wouldn’t do that when you’re mad with someone.

“I thought you wanted me to talk?” Daryl said with a shrug. “That’s what you get.”

“I changed my mind about talking if that’s what I get,” Paul chuckled. “But honestly, don’t worry about it,” he added with a serious voice. “Come here…”

Paul turned on his back and pulled Daryl into his arms. It was an awkward pose at first until Daryl settled his head on his chest and hugged him back.

“It _was_ easier when we were just friends, wasn’t it?” Paul whispered, sadness swinging along with his voice.

And it hurt Daryl to hear that, more than he’d thought possible. He didn’t want Paul to be sad, on the contrary.

“But then we wouldn’t be doing _this_ ,” Daryl whispered despite the embarrassment he was feeling about saying that, admitting how much he loved hugging him.

But he wanted to ensure Paul, he wanted to let him know that he wanted this, too. He wanted them together like this. Anything else should be secondary.

“Oh, so the tough Daryl Dixon loves _cuddling_ , doesn’t he?,” Paul grinned. “Would anyone even believe me if I told them?”

“Fuck you,” Daryl answered and turned his head up to kiss Paul’s jawline.

“Actually you’re putting such a tough guy behaviour on display, and then you’re saying the cheesiest things, you’re quite something.”

Daryl frowned again, and lifted his head to look at him. Paul’s shit-eating grin grew wider and wider. The asshole was still teasing him.

“When did I ever say anything cheesy?”

Paul cleared his throat and pulled his eyebrows together, the most ridiculous serious-face Daryl had ever seen, and he said, “ _You’re always on my mind_.”

Daryl’s cheeks started burning up, remembering blurting out that confession. “How drunk was I?”

Paul couldn’t help but laugh out loud. He placed his hand under Daryl’s chin and tilted it up to give him a quick kiss on the lips.

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind it at all, you can say all the cheesy things all day and I’ll cherish them forever, okay? And I’ll say something cheesy now so we’re even, just so it’s fair,” Paul whispered with a soft smile. “I don’t want to be with anyone else, even if it were a hundred times easier, where would be the fun in that?”

Daryl’s heartbeat quickened again, and his breath got caught in his chest when Paul moved forward to place his lips on his cheek, then on his ear, and then he whispered, “You’re the _only one_ I wanna wake up next to.”

Daryl exhaled, feeling his body tickle all over, feeling his stomach tighten, feeling his groin… _react_ …

He pushed Paul deeper into the cushion suddenly and put his mouth on his, urgency mixing into his feelings, and something else he’d been a stranger to until now. This was how Paul affected him, he made him feel things he didn’t know he was capable of feeling, and Daryl couldn’t imagine being without him anymore. He was as important to him as the air he was breathing.

And fuck it if that sounded cheesy, fuck it all.

Paul’s response was immediate, he pulled Daryl even closer than it was possible, stroking his back gently, and Daryl—to his and Paul’s surprise—moved his hips against his partner’s and thought he’d combust right then and there.

The little gasp Paul made did things to him he hadn’t felt before, and suddenly, that was all that mattered, to feel that gasp against his skin again, again, and again.

**Author's Note:**

> I posted a Desus Ficlet Challenge on Tumblr and got a few pormpts.  
> Some of them very interesting, and some weird xD, but I will give my best to do them justice :)  
> I hope you like it :)
> 
> Talk to me on tumblr @abigailht; feedback is very much appreciated, especially because these are writing practices in English for me since it's not my first language <3  
> So please tell me what you liked, what you didn't like, I also appreciate critique (can also be in DM on tumblr). I would LOVE to hear about your opinion :) I am a beginner and insecure and getting feedback would mean the world to me, thanks <3


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